


Hound Dog

by Trashland (Destieltrashland)



Series: Hunter Husbands [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Human Castiel, Hunter Castiel, Intercrural Sex, Las Vegas Wedding, M/M, Minor Character Death, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-08 21:41:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8863129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destieltrashland/pseuds/Trashland
Summary: Dean mulled over everything he’d read as he took a sip of his iced tea. “Chupacabra?”Cas looked at him incredulously. “No. They’re too small, can’t hold a knife, and usually only feed from livestock.”Dean shrugged. “Damn. I’ve never seen one of those, you know? Dad did once. Said they were ugly and mean.” Dean laughed a little at the memory.“We’d have to go a lot farther south I imagine, probably to the Texas border or into Mexico.” Cas said, looking thoughtful. “Maybe we can take a vacation.”Dean laughed at that, snorting into his glass.“There are a few other creatures who drink blood but not this way and not with this result. Most don’t kill their victims. It’s very strange.” Cas continued. He reached across the table and stole a fry off of Dean’s plate, dunking it in ketchup before popping it into his mouth.He licked the salt off his fingertips and Dean felt a little tendril of heat run through him as he watched. Cas smiled knowingly across the table.“Focus, Dean.”





	1. Chapter 1

A lone bird called in the tree above them, while the moon shone softly in the distance. Castiel, flashlight propped up on a raised tombstone next to him, was busy shoveling dirt back into the grave of Mrs. Talley – an octogenarian who didn’t trust her grandchildren to follow through with her wishes and had hung around to see that they were done. The case itself had been simple, if tiring; digging graves was always tiring, even if they were fresh. 

Dean rubbed at his sore shoulders as he watched Castiel work. He couldn’t help but focus on the strength in the other man’s body, displayed as it was in his white undershirt and with the flashlight practically spotlighting his torso. He watched the muscles in his forearms flex and move as he turned the shovel over again and again. The soft buzz of arousal hummed through him. 

He groaned as he rolled his neck before stooping to collect their things from the ground. It would be daylight soon, he could already see color peeking at the horizon, and they needed to be gone by then. He placed the empty container of lighter fluid, box of matches, and empty beer bottles into the gear bag before grabbing the other shovel. His body felt sluggish as he walked to the impala, the canvas bag thrown over one shoulder. He couldn’t wait to get back home and take a shower, curl up on their memory foam mattress, and sleep for hours. 

Supplies firmly in the trunk, he trudged back to where Cas was putting the last shovelful of dirt on the grave and smoothing it down. 

“Good enough?” he asked as Dean approached. He wiped a forearm across his brow and a smudge of dirt stayed in its wake. Dean smiled when he noticed it. 

“Looks great, baby. Grab the shovel and your shirt and let’s get the hell out of here.”

Cas nodded. 

The drive home was quiet. The two men held hands on the bench seat, each ones knuckles crusted with dirt, dark half-moons under their fingernails. The radio was off, the front windows of the impala cracked open to let in the early morning breeze and the smells of late summer in Kansas; dried grasses and the ozone of an impending storm. 

They were nearing the bunker when Dean’s phone began ringing in the backseat. The shrill sound made Cas jump a little and Dean guessed he’d dozed off during the ride. 

“Hey Cas, can you grab that?” he asked but Cas was already twisting in the seat and reaching for Dean’s over shirt. He came back with the phone in hand, the screen glowing brightly and showing Bobby’s name. Dean glanced at the clock on the dash before answering the call. 

“Everything ok?” he said by way of greeting. 

“Yeah, boy. Everything’s fine on my end. Got a job for you, if you’ve got the time though.” Bobby was never much for ceremony, so he plowed right on. “Three dead bodies in Nevada, Vegas specifically. Been showing up in dumpsters, drained of blood.”

“Vamps?” Dean asked. He glanced over and saw that Cas’ eyes were on him, his eyebrows knitted together in question. “Wait, Bobby, hold on.” He said before the man could answer him. He clicked on speakerphone and handed the phone to Cas, who held it up between them. “Alright, you’re on speaker. I’m too tired to have to repeat this shit to Cas later. Keep goin’”

“Like I said, three bodies in Vegas, each one drained of blood. Couldn’t get much from the papers and the coroner’s report wasn’t great either. Weird thing is, they had slashes on their necks but there was no blood at any of the scenes.” 

Dean wiped a hand down his face. 

“So they were killed elsewhere. Since when do vampires cut people’s throats or move bodies?” Cas said. His voice was scratchy with sleep. 

“No idea. Do you need backup? I could call Garth to come help. He’s in Oklahoma finishing up a werewolf case, shouldn’t be but a day or so behind you.” 

“Nah. Not yet. Let us get a few hours of sleep and then we’ll head that way, look around a bit, and call if we need Garth. Alright?” Dean said. Garth was a good hunter but something about him just rubbed Dean the wrong way; he was too damn happy all the time. 

“Alright. Cas, make sure he calls. Don’t let him go running in there headfirst and doing something stupid.”

A soft smile crossed Cas’ face and he chuckled. “Of course, Bobby. I’d never willingly let him endanger himself.”

They ended the call, tossing the phone down onto the seat. 

“You ever been to Vegas, Cas?” Dean asked. Cas yawned and leaned his head against the window without answering. 

\-----------------

Nevada was hot and dry in a way that made Dean’s skin itch. At least the AC in their motel room worked well and kept pushing out a steady stream of cool air. He and Cas were seated around the small table in the kitchenette, each with a laptop open. He scrolled through the online archives of the University of Nevada digging for more information than what Bobby had sent over. 

They had been in Vegas for a day now, arriving late in the evening and starting as soon as they woke up. They went to see the bodies first. Dean had seen hundreds of bodies in his lifetime but it never stopped giving him pause. _Poor bastards_ , he thought. All of the victims were single men in their twenties to early thirties, each dressed casually – none were flashing expensive jewelry or clothing. The slashes to their throats went straight through the carotid artery on the left side of their necks. The coroner stated that the cause of death in each case was exsanguination as none of the bodies had more than a pint of blood left in them. Each victim had crescent shaped bruising and traces of saliva around the wounds. 

“Dean, this is very unusual.” Cas had said as he leaned closer, his gloved fingers touching the bruises gently. “If whatever did this cut their throats, why the biting?”

Dean shrugged. He’d had the same thought. He couldn’t get a read on this case – his gut wasn’t telling him anything and it was frustrating as hell. For all he knew, this could just be some sicko killing people for fun. 

They’d interviewed the officers who responded to each call – luckily there was some overlap due to the bodies all being found inside the same five mile radius– but none of them had anything new to add. Each body was tossed into a dumpster without much fanfare. The crime scene photos showed no traces of staging or anything overtly supernatural – more evidence in the _not our problem_ category. Two were found behind nightclubs and one behind a restaurant. None of the businesses had cameras pointed at their dumpsters and the only lead they got was a stamp on the back of each victims hand; a set of dice in black ink, mostly washed away. The stamp was used by a dive bar called Dino’s Lounge about a mile from each of the dump sites. 

Dean rubbed his eyes and tried to ignore the ache that was beginning at the back of his skull. He’d been staring at the screen for far too long. 

“You almost finished?” he asked. Cas held up one finger and Dean couldn’t help the soft smile that crossed his face. The other man had his lips pressed tightly together in concentration; his hair sticking up at all angles where he’d been running his fingers through it. He was still in his fed suit; the tie loosened and drooping down his chest, the top few buttons undone, a sliver of collarbone showing through the open neck of his shirt. Dean’s eyes were drawn to that small swath of tan skin, his tongue darting out across his lip.

“Sorry. I wanted to get this post finished and scheduled for tomorrow so I wouldn’t have to worry about it.” Cas said when he finally looked up.

In the three years since he had quit teaching, Castiel’s writing had become one of their main _legitimate_ sources of income – He had a real hang up about credit card fraud, always worried they were going to be caught by the FBI ( _The real FBI, Dean_ ). To avoid using counterfeit cards, he wrote scholarly articles on the occult, ancient religions, and all things supernatural for academic magazines as well as a few more niche markets. He also ran a blog on the same subjects that made a pretty penny in advertising money – as long as he kept the content fresh. This meant that any trip they made had to be filled with coffee shops and motels with free wifi. 

“No problem. I’m glad you got it all squared away.” Dean said. He caught Cas’ eyes and let a lazy smile cover his face, “I was gonna hop in the shower,” he paused to glance down at Cas’ bared throat again, “You wanna join me?”

Castiel stared at him for a moment, his blue eyes intense and searching, before he snapped his laptop shut and stood. Dean grinned as he followed the other man into the bathroom, dropping his clothes along the way. 

The bathtub and shower combo was obviously not built with two full grown men in mind but Dean didn’t care. He squeezed in behind Cas, purposefully wrapping an arm around the other man’s stomach and pulling their bodies flush. His cock was already half-hard and it nestled against Cas’ backside. Cas sighed, letting his head fall back against Dean’s shoulder and Dean leaned down to kiss him. 

The water was warm and soothing. Dean poured shower gel into his hand and ran the lather over Cas’ torso, taking time to knead the muscles of his back and neck. Cas groaned low in his throat and braced himself on the wall with one outstretched hand. Dean layered kisses down his shoulders and back as his hands dropped lower, squeezing handfuls of his ass before moving around front to scratch through the dark hair on his stomach and at the base of his cock. 

“Dean,” Cas said. Dean’s dick jumped at the sound, not quite a whine but definitely a request. 

He wrapped a hand around Cas’ cock and stroked once, twice. His fist was too loose, teasing, and Cas did whine then, bucking his hips up into Dean’s grip. Dean chuckled darkly and nipped at the place where Cas’ neck and shoulder met. He tightened his grip; smooth, long strokes alternating with twists at the head, squeezing every so often to watch droplets of precome slip out. 

He ground his hips into Castiel’s ass then, his own erection fitting snugly against him. The water made little squelching sounds between them but Dean ignored it in favor of focusing on every little gasp and moan that fell from Cas’ mouth. Cas’ free hand wrapped around his thigh, fingers digging in almost painfully. Dean was sure he would have bruises there tomorrow. 

When Cas came, he stumbled forward a step and Dean had to steady him. He could feel the muscles of Cas’ abdomen tremble under his forearm. Cas was panting, leaning forward with his forehead on his arm, the water pouring down over one shoulder. Dean pressed closer, keeping his face out of the spray as his hips continued to work. His dick slipped down between Cas’ thighs and Cas had the presence of mind to pull them close. Dean groaned at the added friction, the squeeze. He came moments later with a grunt, his knees feeling weak beneath him. 

\-------------  
The next day, they went to interview the families of the victims. Dean hated this part. He had a hard time watching other people get upset, even cry. He never knew what to say or how to act. How the hell was he supposed to offer condolences for something like this? Luckily, Cas was a natural at it. He was a little odd and sometimes said things a little to bluntly, but faced with a crying stranger he was compassion incarnate. He would hold someone’s hand, pass them a never ending supply of tissues, and work his way through the questioning as gently as possible. 

Today was no different. Through tears, the mother of the first victim, a guy named Jonah Efram, told them that Jonah hadn’t been acting any different lately. He had never mentioned Dino’s lounge but she said he liked to drink and play pool, so it didn’t surprise her that he had been out that night. A look around Jonah’s apartment didn’t bring up anything new either. The man lived like any twenty-seven year old just starting out in the world; with garage sale furniture and clutter everywhere. There were no signs of witchcraft (another working theory of theirs) or anything else supernatural around his place. 

The next guy, Inias Godsen, was a college student at University of Nevada majoring in criminal justice. He didn’t have any family in the area, his mom lived in Arizona, but he did have a roommate. The girl was sweet but still a bit shaken by the whole ordeal. She said the same things as Jonah’s mother – Inias had been acting normally that night. He partied some, brought girls home, but he wasn’t into anything weird as far as she knew. They checked out his room and found much of the same. Textbooks scattered across the desk and an open laptop with a Call of Duty background on it. Besides normal social media and school work, the laptop was clean. Laundry littered the floor and the bed was unmade. Cas paused briefly in the doorway, a sad look on his face. Inias was only twenty four. Dean stopped to put a hand on his shoulder and give it a squeeze, wishing they were somewhere more private so he could wrap the other man in a hug. After a moment Cas let out a sigh and they left. 

The last victim was thirty two, Tyson Brady, a physician assistant at Sunrise hospital. His brother told them that Tyson had mentioned meeting someone at the bar that night, a woman, but that the text messages had stopped shortly after that. The police hadn’t mentioned the woman in their report, which Dean brought up, and the guy sheepishly admitted to leaving that part out. He said he didn’t think it would help any and he didn’t want his brother to come off looking like some kind of playboy. Dean had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes. They scanned the text messages but found no more description than “a sexy brunette” and “you should see the mouth on her.” Dean wondered if the brother was really worried about Tyson looking like an asshole. Tyson’s apartment was cleaner and nicer than the others but no less devoid of anything helpful. 

After leaving, they headed to a diner for a late lunch, Dean’s stomach growled audibly as they drove and Cas smiled over at him softly, a look of amusement in his eyes. The burger he received was mediocre at best but it was warm and he was hungry so he ate it without complaint. The fries were excellent at least. 

“It doesn’t look like witchcraft. None that I’ve seen anyway – I know some witches use blood in spells but not this much – not three full grown men’s worth.” Dean said through a mouthful of fries. 

Cas looked vaguely disgusted but nodded. “True. Blood in spells is usually minimal, mostly just to draw a connection with the person. Plus, most blood based spells require some knowledge of the person involved. I find it hard to believe someone would be conducting them with a stranger.” 

“So are we back to vamps? Cause I don’t really like them for it either. The biting thing, using a knife, it just doesn’t feel right.” 

“I agree. Vampires have fangs for a reason and they just drink straight from the body.”

Dean mulled over everything he’d read as he took a sip of his iced tea. “Chupacabra?”

Cas looked at him incredulously. “No. They’re too small, can’t hold a knife, and usually only feed from livestock.” 

Dean shrugged. “Damn. I’ve never seen one of those, you know? Dad did once. Said they were ugly and mean.” Dean laughed a little at the memory. 

“We’d have to go a lot farther south I imagine, probably to the Texas border or into Mexico.” Cas said, looking thoughtful. “Maybe we can take a vacation.” 

Dean laughed at that, snorting into his glass. 

“There are a few other creatures who drink blood but not this way and not with this result. Most don’t kill their victims. It’s very strange.” Cas continued. He reached across the table and stole a fry off of Dean’s plate, dunking it in ketchup before popping it into his mouth. 

He licked the salt off his fingertips and Dean felt a little tendril of heat run through him as he watched. Cas smiled knowingly across the table. 

“Focus, Dean.”

“It’s your fault.” Dean said as Cas took another fry. “Are we ruling out a plain jane human killer? I mean, there are plenty of weirdos out there who have a thing for blood, I’m sure.” 

“Not ruling it out, per say, but if that’s what it turns out to be we’ll just turn it over to the cops.”

“Yeah, ok.” Dean said. He drank the last of his tea and pushed the remnants of his fries across the table. 

Cas finished off the fries while Dean ordered a slice of blueberry pie.

“I think we should go to the bar tonight. It’s the only connection we have so far, the only concrete evidence.” Cas said. 

Dean nodded. “Yeah. Good idea. We go in as patrons though; I’m sure the cops have already been through there.”


	2. Chapter 2

The bar was dark and smoky with wooden booths that had seen better days across one wall, pool tables along another, and a tiny stage set back in the corner. The band playing was somewhere between country and pop and Dean was a little surprised by the choice – he had imagined old school jazz or rat pack music when he’d heard the name. The crowd in front of the stage said the choice was a good one though. He sauntered up to the bar, his eyes roaming the faces of the crowd casually, and ordered two beers. Castiel staked out a pool table, chatting to the two men currently playing. 

Dean glanced over to where Cas was and watched him laugh, his head tipped back exposing the long line of his throat, the wrinkles around his eyes more prominent. He smiled to himself at the image. Cas was always his most beautiful when he was laughing. 

“Here you go, hun.” The bartender said as she handed him the glasses. 

“Thanks.” Dean said, putting on his most winning smile. “Can I ask you something?” 

The girl nodded quickly, her dark ponytail bobbing behind her. “I was at my hotel earlier and some guy was talking about a string of murders near here. Have you heard anything about that?”

The girl’s smile dropped and she glanced around before leaning across the bar. “We aren’t really supposed to talk about it,” she said. 

Dean tried to look sympathetic. “Oh, alright. I wouldn’t wanna get you in trouble or anything. I was just curious.” He took a sip of his drink, letting his gaze wander around the room again. He could still feel the presence of the bartender next to him. 

“Ok. You didn’t hear this from me-“ she started. Dean turned to face her again, schooling his expression. “Cops came in here a few days ago and talked to a bunch of us. I guess one of the guys who was killed had been in here or something. They just asked if we’d seen anything weird, stuff like that.” 

“Wow, really?” Dean said, feigning surprise. The girl nodded. “Well, did anyone see anything?” 

She shrugged. “Not really. One of the guys said he caught some college kid out back a few days ago, hanging around in the alley but he scared him off. Thought the kid was just looking for a place to get high. That’s what he said anyway.” She looked up when someone down the bar called her name. “Sorry, I gotta go.”

“Nice talking to you.” He said, picking up the glasses and heading off. He’d have to tell Cas about the college kid and stop by the alleyway later. 

“Dean, this is Adam, he’s getting married tomorrow,” Cas said as Dean handed him his beer. He motioned to a young guy with blonde hair and an affable smile, “and this is Aaron, his best man. This is Adam’s impromptu bachelor party.” The other guy was shorter with dark hair and striking brown eyes. 

Adam and Aaron both laughed and clinked glasses. 

“Nice to meet you fellas’. Congrats!” Dean said, raising his own glass in a silent toast. 

“Thanks man!” Adam said. Aaron clapped him on the back. 

“It’s about damn time, if you ask me.” He said, grinning. Dean suspected the bachelor party was in full swing by now and both men were a little drunk. “He and April have been together for as long as I can remember. Don’t know why it took them this long, but I’m glad they’re finally doing it.” He pulled the other man into a hug, which Adam accepted with a chuckle. 

“All right, all right. Let’s finish the game, so we can all play. Yeah?” Adam said. 

“They agreed to let us play teams for the next game.” Cas said, turning to Dean, who nodded. 

Even a little drunk, Adam and Aaron weren’t half bad and they finished the game quickly. Dean ordered a round of shots and toasted the groom-to-be again when he won. 

Just like with hunting, Cas and Dean made an incredible team when it came to pool. They played well off one another – setting up shots and communicating wordlessly across the table. If they had been trying to hustle their new companions, it would have been easy (they’d done it in the past, much to the delight of their wallets) but they weren’t, focusing instead on keeping a watchful eye on the game as well as their surroundings. 

“So why Vegas, if you don’t mind my asking?” Cas said. 

Adam shrugged. “We grew up around here. Aaron and I went to high school in Boulder city. Plus, why not?” He stopped to take a drink, “April doesn’t care about a big wedding and I don’t really have much family. We aren’t religious, so we thought, let’s do something fun! She brought her best friend and I brought this asshole.” 

Aaron flipped him off from across the table. 

“So are you doing the whole Vegas thing? Drive thru service? Show girls as witnesses?” Dean said. 

“Elvis as the officiant?” Cas added. 

“Yeah! You definitely need Elvis to be there at least.” Dean said with a grin in Cas’ direction. 

Adam and Aaron both shook their heads, laughing. “No, no Elvis. We’re having a small ceremony at the Little White Wedding Chapel, with the big dress and tuxes and then going gambling at the Bellagio. I got us a suite for the night as a surprise.” Adam cheeks flushed and Dean felt a rush of fondness for the guy. 

“That sounds great, man. I bet she’ll love it.” He said in all seriousness. 

Adam nodded again, lifting his glass, and breaking the moment. 

“What about you two?” Aaron cut in. “You married? Getting married?” 

Dean felt his own cheeks light up a little. He couldn’t say he’d never thought about marrying Cas – thought about it often actually but just hadn’t worked up to it. “No, we’re not married.”

“Not yet.” Cas said. Dean’s eyes darted over to his, that same intense blue, and he felt his heart pick up speed, a smile pulling at his lips. Cas returned the look, his own smile creasing his face. 

“Well you should be, the way you look at each other – it’s almost as bad as Adam and April.” Aaron said. His face was scrunched up in mock disgust and Dean chuckled. “You are in Vegas after all.” He said suggestively. 

Dean didn’t have a response to that and Cas seemed inclined not to answer either. He sipped his drink, his eyes still on Dean. 

Dean reached across the small table, twining their fingers together and squeezed. “We’re here for work but who knows.” He said, his voice faltering at the end. 

Adam and Aaron exchanged a look, but said nothing and went back to the game. They were both getting sloppier, missing more shots and grumbling about it the whole way. Dean had to suppress a loud chuckle when Adam scratched for the second time in a row. 

As the band wound down and went off the stage, the crowd dispersed. People filtered over to watch and to call the next game. A dark haired girl, curvy, with red lipstick on came to their table and introduced herself as Meg. She crowded in close to Aaron’s side. Dean smirked into his glass when the girl leaned over and whispered something that made Aaron’s whole face light up in a blush. 

“So what’re we playing for boys?” Meg said. She draped an arm around Aaron’s shoulder and cocked a hip. He grinned as he slipped his arm around her waist. 

“Loser buys the next round.” He lifted his glass in a toast and they each drank. 

“Aw I was hoping it was something more _interesting_ ,” she said with one eyebrow raised. 

The game went quickly then, with Cas and Dean making shots easily while Adam and Aaron tried to keep up. Meg stayed by Aaron’s side, nibbling on his ear and throwing strange glances across the table. Dean wondered if she was trying to hit on Cas too – to pit the two men against each other. Cas for his part seemed oblivious, although a slight tension around his eyes let Dean know he was well aware of what the woman was doing. 

“Have you heard about the murders near here? I saw something on TV.” Cas said, casual and smooth, as he stepped forward, cue in hand, and bent over to take his shot. 

“Yeah. It’s terrible.” Adam said, “Weird too. I’ve never heard of anything like that, except in a movie or something.” 

“What murders?” Aaron asked, setting his cue aside and picking up his drink. Meg watched the conversation with a smirk on her lips but made no comment. 

“Three guys all drained of blood. They found them all in the last two weeks too, I think.”

Aaron’s face went a shade paler. “Damn. That’s freaky.” 

“Have you heard anything else about it? I haven’t had a chance to look it up online or anything.” Cas said. 

“Actually, when I went up to the bar earlier some girl was telling the bartender that she knew one of the guys. She told this whole story about how they hooked up in the alley out back one time – she was probably drunk. Not sure why you’d tell a bartender that story otherwise.” Adam said with a shrug. 

If the story was true, Dean could guess which of the guys it referred to. Again, he thought they needed to go check out the alleyway. 

When the game ended, Adam wandered off to find the bathroom and they stood in silence for a time, ignoring the couple across from them. Meg was pressed up against the table, her hands gripping the side now, as Aaron crowded into the space between her legs, talking in a low voice and making her laugh between bouts of making out. Meg had already placed one large hickey on the side of his neck. Dean rolled his eyes at the show but took the lull in conversation to scan the crowd again. The patrons had thinned out some, the lack of music probably acting as a deterrent as well as the pull of the casinos just a few miles west. No one still lingering at the bar seemed out of place but that didn’t really mean much. There were plenty of monsters in the world that could blend right in with a crowd. 

Dean took Cas’ hand in his and drew him away towards the bar. 

“We need to check out the alley.” He said. “The bartender and Adam both mentioned it. I’ve got a weird feeling.” 

\----------

They stopped by the impala for supplies before heading around the side of the building. The alley was dark and non-descript; light fixtures, yellowed with age, were bolted to the brick walls and cast a buttery light into the gloom. Castiel flipped on a flashlight, looking around the space. It was small and cramped; one wall held two large dumpsters, their exteriors scuffed and chipped, their lids closed tight. Trash and debris scattered loosely everywhere and caught in the corners. He scanned the walls but found only the usual smattering of graffiti. 

Cas opened each of the dumpsters and peered inside. Dean felt a small ball of anxiety in his chest, his muscles coiled tight and ready just in case. The warm night air carried the smell out of the confined space quickly and made him wrinkle his nose. 

“Anything?”

“Not yet.” 

Behind Cas, Dean could see traffic and pedestrians passing by on the street next to the bar. He hoped no one looked down this way. 

“Dean, look at this.” Cas said. Dean crossed the space quickly. On the concrete at the back corner of one of the dumpsters was a brownish red stain and a dusting of yellow powder highlighted by the white circle of Cas’ flashlight. 

“Is that what I think it is?” he asked. 

Cas tugged at the edge of the dumpster with both hands. It wasn’t full and it had wheels but it still only moved an inch or two. He shined the light onto the brick behind it and cursed softly. 

Dean felt his stomach drop as he too looked behind the dumpster. On the wall was a sigil, the symbol blurred from repeated use. The blood dried on the wall was flaking off in places and the sight made Dean’s skin crawl. 

“Sonofabitch!” he said. “Demons? Fucking demons?” He growled in frustration. “We need to go Cas, now.”

“Let me get a picture. I need to look this up.” Cas said. He had his phone out and was quickly snapping pictures in the cramped space, the flash bouncing back and lighting up his features. Dean looked back and forth between the entrances, hoping again that no one would notice the odd activity. He felt adrenaline flood his system and it made him jittery. 

“Now, Cas.” 

Cas pushed at the dumpster again and it squealed against the concrete as it moved forward another inch. “Almost done.” 

Behind them a door opened on quiet hinges and clanged against the wall. Dean’s heart leapt as he spun around. The fire door to the bar was open, golden light from inside and the faint sounds of laughter pouring out. In the doorway was the silhouette of a familiar curvy shape. 

“Meg?” he asked, hoping that she was just coming outside for a smoke. 

His stomach dropped once more when she stepped out and he saw a smirk cut across her face; her eyes were solid black. 

“Cas!”

Cas was at his side immediately. Behind her, Aaron followed with a dazed expression on his face, his steps unsteady. Meg waved a hand at the door and it swung shut. 

“Clarence, Ken Doll,” she said with a nod and a sneer to each of them, “I was hoping I’d find you out here.”

“What do you want?” Dean snarled. 

Meg walked towards them purposefully, Aaron mirroring her movements. 

“I knew there were hunters lurking around but walking into the bar and asking questions like that? I didn’t think you would be so stupid. Oh well.” 

She flicked her wrist again and the dumpster moved with a loud squeal. Dean flinched at the noise but held his ground – behind him, he felt Cas do the same. Underneath the dumpster was another symbol, this one carved in the concrete and covered in dried blood. 

Meg made a soft clucking noise with her tongue, a dark chuckle rising from her throat. She snapped her fingers and pointed and Aaron mindlessly walked towards the symbol. 

“Aaron. Wait.” Cas said. He took a step forward but Meg waved her hand again and Cas was thrown back against the brick. He groaned when he connected with the wall, the air punched out of his lungs in a huff before his body slumped to the ground. Dean growled, stepping forward. 

“If you hurt him-“ he started but Meg cut him off with a laugh. 

“You’ll do what pretty boy?” She sneered. 

Aaron kept up his slow progress towards the symbol. Dean looked back at Cas. His flashlight had fallen and was shining brightly on the soles of his boots. He was breathing but his eyes were closed and Dean couldn’t see any movement. His chest felt full to bursting with rage and fear. Please let him be ok, please let him be ok – he repeated the words like a mantra. 

“ _Exorcizamus te, Omnis Immundus Spiritus,_ ” he began the familiar chat. He knew it was useless even as the words poured from his mouth, “ _Omnis Satanica Potestas._ ” Meg wasn’t in a devil’s trap and he didn’t have any holy water on him to slow her down but he had to do something; he had to try and buy them time. “ _Omnis Incursio Infernalis Adversarii, Omnis -_ ” 

His words were cut off when a tightness surrounded his throat, squeezing and constricting his breathing. He wheezed, gasping around it, unable to form the words. Meg chuckled again. 

“Ah ah ah. None of that now. I’ll go back when I’m good and ready but I have to finish this first.” She said. 

She waved her hand again and Dean’s body flew back against the wall. The brick slammed into his spine, sharp edges digging into him through his t-shirt. It felt like someone was pressing against his whole torso, the weight a living thing against him. His hands scratched at his throat uselessly and spots danced around the edges of his vision. 

Aaron walked over the symbol, which lit up a glowing red that flickered under his feet. His head tipped back, his mouth open in a silent scream. Dean thought he heard Cas’ voice in the background but he couldn’t make out the words. His ears were full of the sound of his own heartbeat, thumping rhythmically and picking up speed. He shut his eyes then, turning his mind inward and trying to relax. He didn’t want to pass out and he hoped he could will his body to stay awake just a little while longer. 

They had been stupid coming out here without more weapons or backup. He knew logically that there had been no sign of a demon before now to go on but he still felt the weight of the mistake on his shoulders. He tried to swallow around the lump in his throat, the emotional constriction not helping matters any, as he thought about the possibility that this was it for them. 

He didn’t know how long he stayed like that; with his teeth clenched and the rush of blood in his ears but after what seemed like a lifetime, the pressure on his throat disappeared. His body slid down the wall and he landed with a thump on the concrete. He sucked in air in rapid breaths, feeling the dizziness in his head dissipate some. When he finally opened his eyes he saw Meg doubled over, her face in her hands, cursing and groaning. 

Cas was up and moving across the space. In his hand was a flask and Dean felt a wave of pride crash over him. Holy Water! Cas had brought it for some reason ( _you can never be too prepared, Dean_ ) and Dean thought it was the most beautiful thing he had ever witnessed. He was speaking, his low gravelly voice saying the words quickly but expertly. 

“ _Omnis Incursio Infernalis Adversarii, Omnis Congregatio et Secta Diabolica, Ergo Draco Maledicte,_ ”

Meg stood, her face a twisted grimace of pain, smoke rising from her skin. “You really do know how to make a girl’s nethers quiver, don’t you?” She said. She raised her hand again and Cas’ words cut off. He stood his ground and stared daggers at her, his face a stony mask. 

Dean pulled himself up, the concrete digging into his knees through his jeans. “ _Ut Ecclesiam Tuam Servire, Tibi, Facias Libertate Secura,_ ” he croaked as his vision swam. 

Before he could finish, Meg’s eyes snapped to him. She sneered again, her blistered skin making her expression that much more intimidating. 

“Ok boys. I’m officially not having fun anymore.” She said. She took a step toward him and raised her hand. Her black eyes were flat and lifeless; the effect was more pronounced by the lighting. Dean tried not to cringe as he sucked in a few huge breaths – readying himself. 

Behind her, Dean saw a flash of movement and then Meg went rigid. She howled in frustration even as a bright orange light lit her body up from within. He could see black smoke writhing in her open mouth and her eyes danced with flames. Her body jerked once and then crumpled to the ground. 

Cas was there, his jaw clenched tight, a silver blade glinting in his hand. 

“Holy shit.” Dean whispered. He was still lightheaded and his whole body ached but he couldn’t deny the rush of heat that ran up his spine. Cas was hot when he was angry.

“Dean?” Cas said, coming back to himself. He rushed forward, dropping to his knees and pulling Dean into the circle of his arms. The knife clattered to the ground next to them. 

Dean squeezed his own arms around Cas’ chest, pulling him in close and tightening his fists in the back of Cas’ shirt. “Jesus Christ, Cas. Are you ok?” he said, breathless. 

Cas leaned back and cupped his cheeks. “I’m fine. What about you? Dean. She choked you. Your face-“ he trailed off. Dean could see the gleam of unshed tears in his eyes. 

“I’m fine, baby. Banged up for sure but nothing too bad.” He said. He tilted his face into Cas’ hand and pressed a kiss to his palm. “Thanks to you anyway. I really thought we were dead there for a minute.”

“Yes. She was very powerful. I don’t know why she didn’t just kill us.” 

“Some demons like to play, to take their time. Must come from all the torture they endure, you know? Whatever it is, it helped us out this time.” They leaned in and Dean pressed their mouths together. Cas’ lips were soft and warm against his own. “What the hell made you think to bring holy water and that knife?” he motioned to the blade on the ground. The blade had symbols etched into it, the handle dark with wear and use. It had been specifically designed to kill demons and was one of their best kept secrets. “There were no signs it was a demon.” Dean said. Honestly, he was a little in awe of Castiel in the moment. He had been hunting only a fraction of the time Dean had but still, his instincts were some of the best Dean had ever seen. 

“I really don’t know. I just saw it in the trunk and thought it couldn’t hurt.” Cas said. He rolled his shoulders in a small shrug and Dean couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Holy fuck, Cas.”

“Indeed.”

They sat in silence for a moment. Dean reveled in the feel of Cas around him. The tightness in his chest loosened some now that they weren’t in danger but he couldn’t entirely shake the panic he’d felt. He didn’t know what he would do without Cas in his life. Cas had become his best friend, his confidant, and his partner in every sense of the word. When Sam gave up hunting to focus on research (and spend time with Gabriel), Cas had been there to pick up the pieces. 

“Did you mean it?” he asked. The words spilling from his mouth without any thought. 

Cas cocked his head to one side and a burst of warmth flared through Dean’s chest. 

“That you would marry me? Earlier, you said not yet..” he trailed off. He was glad for the darkness then as he felt his cheeks flush. 

Castiel’s expression was serious and Dean felt a small sliver of worry until he said, “Of course Dean.” 

“Awesome.” He said before pulling Cas in for another kiss. 

They broke apart when they heard a groan. “Aaron.” They said in unison – both having forgotten about the man in their relief. 

He was lying on the ground, the symbol lifeless and gray once more underneath him. They surrounded him and Cas checked him over with steady hands and gentle fingers. Once he was pretty sure Aaron was free on injury, they helped him sit up. 

“What happened?” he asked. His eyes were still a little glazed over as he took in their faces. “Are we outside?”

“How much do you remember?”

“I was kissing that girl, uh, Meg? With the dark hair.” He looked between them and Dean nodded, “She was kissing my neck and then she bit me, hard!” his hand came up to the spot on his neck and he winced. “Damn, I think she gave me a bruise. Anyway, I tried to move away and told her that wasn’t cool. I’ve gotta work, you know? Not to mention Adam’s wedding. I don’t wanna walk around with a giant hickey on my neck.” 

Castiel nodded and Dean could see him silently willing Aaron to hurry up with his story. 

“And then what?” he asked. 

“Then nothing, man. One minute I’m telling her to back off and the next I’m out here with you guys. Ugh I know I drank a lot but damn, my head is killing me.” He said. 

They each got an arm around him and helped the smaller man stand up. They led him back around to the front of the bar and Castiel waited with him while Dean fetched Adam from inside. Once the two men were secure in a taxi, they headed back to the alley. 

Meg’s body was right where they left it, in a crumpled heap in the center of the space. They both stared and Cas mumbled a small prayer under his breath. The downside to using the knife was that it killed the demon’s host, if the person was still alive to begin with. 

“It was us or her, Cas. I know it sucks but sometimes we have to make tough calls. You know?” Dean wrapped his arms around him and tugged him into a hug. 

After a moment, they broke apart. “Why don’t you go get baby and we can load her into the trunk. Don’t want her being found out here. We’ll call Bobby and see if he’s got any advice for the body.”  
\----------------  
They left her in the desert, just off the side of a rarely used service road leading to an old water tower. Bobby assured them that in a week, he’d call and report the body anonymously. That should give the weather time enough to ruin any evidence they had been there. Dean shuddered at the thought and left that particular piece of information out when telling Cas the plan. Cas sent over the pictures and Bobby said he’d get started looking at them and he agreed to call if he found something. 

Cas was quiet on the drive back into town. 

When the lights of the strip came into view he suddenly spoke. “Let’s do it now.” 

“What?” Dean asked. It was edging three in the morning and his brain was feeling pretty sluggish. 

“Let’s get married. Now. Here.” Cas said. He motioned out the window towards the twinkling lights. 

Dean’s heart picked up speed and he licked his lips. “Yeah? You want to? We don’t have rings or anything.” Cas gave him an unimpressed look, “Plus, Gabe and Sam will kill us.” 

“They will probably be disappointed but if we make it a good story, I bet they’ll get over it. Plus, when we get back we will graciously let them take us to dinner to celebrate.”

Dean couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. “A good story, eh? Do you mean –“

“The full Vegas experience.” Cas said. His face was plastered with an equally comical grin and Dean laughed as he turned the car in that direction. 

An hour and a half later they found themselves standing inside Elvis’ Little Chapel. The room was white with silver and neon pink accents, pink flowers were draped over the podium, and white lace bows decorated the four small benches set out for guests. Elvis was dressed in a red rhinestone encrusted jumpsuit and had his signature lip curl down pat. 

The ceremony was simple and everything they had hoped for. 

“Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the exchange of solemn vows between Dean Winchester and Castiel "WHO LOVES YA, BABY?" Novak.”

Dean laughed as Cas scrunched up his nose at the moniker. From behind them he heard a sniffle and glanced back to see Becky Rosen, the owner of the chapel – and their stand in witness – dabbing her eyes with a tissue. 

“If there be any suspicious minds present in the audience doncha think it's time to speak now or never - their love won't wait.”

Elvis waited a beat before curling his lip again and continuing, 

“Dean Winchester, repeat after me: It only took one night to get stuck on you, and now my wish came true, you big hunka hunka burnin' love! I thought you were nothin' but a hound dog, cryin' all the time, but now I know you're my teddy bear 'cause tigers play too rough and lions ain't the kind you love enough. So kiss me quick and love me tender for I can't help falling in love with you.” 

Dean did as he was asked, though he had to pause in the middle to stifle a laugh at the words. He kept his eyes on Cas’ though and even though the words were silly, the sentiment was real. 

“Castiel "WHO LOVES YA, BABY?" Novak, repeat after me: It took a hard headed man to make me king of the whole wide world. I thought you were the devil in disguise but you turned out to be my puppet on a string. I used to live in the hotel down the end of lonely street but now it's viva las vegas 'cause I need your love tonight.”

Castiel did, his voice not wavering a bit. Dean felt tears prick his eyes but he refused to drop Cas’ hands to wipe them away. 

“By the powers vested in me I now pronounce you "husband and husband" but remember, there is no return to sender. You may kiss your beloved. Please join me in welcoming Mr. AND Mr. "WHO LOVES YA, BABY?" Winchester-Novak. Folks, this has got me all shook up, so please love me tender.”

Dean grinned and pulled Cas in for a kiss. He saw the bright light of a flash on them but didn’t open his eyes or break away. Cas’ hand was on his waist, fingers curled in the hem of his shirt. When they finally parted, Becky rushed to hug them both. Tears streaked her cheeks and she gushed about how happy she was for them. 

She hustled them out of the chapel and into a small room next door. A different Elvis, this one in a white jumpsuit with a high collar but no fewer rhinestones than the last, stood on a small stage and crooned into a microphone. Dean took Cas’ hand, resting his arm against the other man’s lower back as they began to sway. 

“Hound dog, Cas? Really?” 

“What? She asked for my three favorite Elvis songs. I didn’t know this would be the first one!” Cas said. Dean would almost think he was pouting if not for the happy glint in his eyes. 

Dean laughed and pulled Cas closer. They danced slowly even as Elvis gyrated and shook his hips next to them. 

“I love you, Cas.” 

“I love you, Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elvis ceremony taken from [Here](http://www.brilliantweddingpages.com/couples/elvis_wedding_vows.asp)

**Author's Note:**

> on tumblr at [DestielTrashland](http://destieltrashland.tumblr.com).


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